THE CORPSE IS UP THERE ON THE CEILING

Police Commissioner Bastoni laboriously climbed the last few steps leading to the fourth floor, nodded in reply at the salute of Constable Locicero, standing by the open door, and entered the flat.
A wide, well-lit corridor, high wood-beamed ceilings, a few pieces of tasteful furniture: what one might expect in a luxury residence for wealthy tourists a few steps from the Pantheon.

He headed straight for the last room on the left, where a cone of light flooded the corridor, and excited voices hinted that his presence would be useful.
Apart from the almost blinding light shot upwards from a spotlight on the floor, the picture was largely usual to him, one he had often encountered throughout his 25-year career.
In one corner, Deputy Commissioner Manotta was talking to a black girl, head in hands, slumped on a grey designer armchair.

In the opposite corner, constables Cardone and Marianni, arms folded in idle mode, waiting for precise orders to go into action.
But the folded arms, outcome of long-standing work habits, clashed with the dumbfounded gazes directed at a precise point on the ceiling. The commissioner followed the gazes and wham… for a moment his heart stopped beating, he lost his balance and slumped heavily on a sofa behind him.

His mouth still wide open, unable to believe what he was seeing, he tried in vain for a few minutes to return to a posture more suited to his role.
In the centre of the ceiling, hit by the light of the powerful lamp, was the corpse of a young man. 20-25 years old, short blond hair, medium build, white t-shirt, plaid shirt open at the chest, short trousers, barefoot.

Eyes and mouth were half-closed, his appearance all in all serene, he didn't appear to have suffered at the moment of death. On first cursory observation from below, no cause of death was visible: no bullet holes, no cuts by knife, no blood; still, it must have been a crime... if someone hides a corpse, even if on the ceiling, instead of reporting it, it's already a criminal event.
Bastoni was trying to better understand how the body had been fixed up there. Judging by his shadow on the ceiling, the boy was not stuck directly, he seemed almost suspended in mid-air, however absurd and inconceivable this might seem.

He tried to regain control of the situation.
- Cardone, Marianni, first, try to turn this fucking light off. There must be a normal light, a socket whatever in this room. Then get a tall ladder to bring that thing down, the corpse. Actually we need two ladders, you can't tell how the body is attached up there and we have to bring it down in one piece. You'd better call the fire station nearby, point out the situation and ask for help. But be quick eh... Manotta, come, what's the situation?

Around the Commissioner things started moving. Cardone stuck to his mobile in search of the two staircases, Marianni began to search the room for sockets and electrical cables, Manotta left the seated girl, still in an obvious state of shock, and came closer.

- Commissioner, so... these are the facts. The girl arrived this morning to clean the house, around seven forty. No one was inside. She came in here, saw the body and ran away screaming. She went out into the street, stopped a policeman at the crossroads and he called us. We arrived at eight twenty-five and found this situation.

- But where was the girl?
- She was waiting for us at the gate, explained the situation and came up with us. I was questioning her when...
- All right Manotta, I'll ask her some questions now.
- Commissioner, by the way...
- Alright alright, you help Cardone look for the stairs and call the coroner, but tell him there's no hurry. I guess it won't be that easy to bring him down. What's the girl's name?
- Ossouka Bekale, she's from Gabon, look...

But Bastoni had already reached the girl, sitting with her arms folded, her head bowed, her gaze pointing resolutely to the ground. Dark-skinned, a kind of braided turban in bright colours completely hid her hair, a foot-lenght skirt with green and brown panels.
The commissioner sat opposite her and tried to use his gentlest tones.

- Good morning, I am police, may you answer questions from me, please?
Ossouka Bekale remained motionless with her head down for 30 - 40 seconds. Perhaps she had not understood the question, thought Bastoni. Then, very very slowly, the girl raised an intense and nervous look at the commissioner.
- OK, I ready, but I already told everything to other policeman.
- Sure, Ossuca, I know.
- Ossouka.
- Ossouka, then. Just a few questions more from me. When come you here today, and why to come you here?
- I do cleaning in building for rental agency, I to come here once a week, from seven thirty to twelve thirty. They to pay little but always to pay on time.
- And today you come at 7:30 like other days? You have keys?
- Yes, I precise, I to open door I to see much light and then I see... corpse.
- What you to do after you to see it?
- I shout and shout but nobody to answer in the house, so I run down the stairs. Doorman at entrance to see me screaming, I found policeman outside and he to call police.

Manotta cautiously leaned into the commissioner's ear.
- Commissioner, the fire brigade is coming with the ladders.
- Very well, and about the coroner?
- I've warned him, he's coming around ten o'clock.

Immediately after it was constable Cardone's turn.
- Commissioner, we've looked everywhere. Strange, but there aren't central lights in this room, only one socket and the spotlight is connected to that. If we turn it off, life could be difficult for the firemen who have to lift the corpse from the ceiling.
Bastoni took note of the data, gave a hasty nod of approval and continued with the girl.

- Ossuca…
- Ossouka.
- All right, Ossouka, who to live in this flat? you to know him? he to be the one hanging from the ceiling?
- No, I never to see him. Here always to change tenant, only one week stay, sometimes two weeks. I never to see who stay here.
- You to turn the key in the lock or not?
- I to use key but not turn so much, I to open it straight away.

The commissioner pondered, looking around.
- But a week ago, when you to come in here, what this room to look like?
- Normal it was, there was a big table in the middle and lots of chairs, also to be a big lamp on the table, I to remember because so many things to clean.
Noises in the corridor, hurried footsteps and heavy breathing, two firemen entered the room carrying two heavy ladders. Manotta stopped them at the entrance, whispered something and pointed to the ceiling.

The two froze instantly, mesmerised, and remained motionless with their mouths open for at least a minute, staring at the ceiling.
- Ossouka, you to touch anything when you to enter the house?
- Only the door handle and the handle of this room. Nothing else. Then I to run away.

The two firemen had awakened from their trance and started to move under the direction of Deputy Commissioner Manotta. Facing each other, they climbed the stairs slowly, avoiding looking at the corpse, under the watchful gaze of constables Cardone and Marianni, arms folded.

When they reached the ceiling, the two focused on a particular point behind the corpse's back, invisible from below, and began talking quietly to each other. They tried to touch a spot, stopped, whispered, touched something else and discussed what to do next. With every slightest touch, the corpse swayed gently.

Bastoni tried to refocus on the girl, again with her gaze fixed on the ground to avoid looking at the scene.
- Ossouka, the agency to tell you what a tourist is in every week? The agency to say you "don't clean this, clean only that room, to not open this room"?
- Sometimes agency to say, but only sometimes, this time I to have to clean everywhere… Oh fuck, that's enough, I can't take it anymore, Commissioner Manotta, could you come here for a moment, please?

Ossouka Bekale stood up firm, fists on her hips, her gaze intense, while Bastoni stared in astonishment at the sudden swing in front of him. Manotta approached cautiously, already imagining the reason for the call.
- Commissioner, I have described to you patiently in detail twice what I saw when I arrived here this morning, I have nothing more to say on the matter, and above all I can no longer tolerate a police questioning by a racist asshole who....

A sudden roar engulfs her statement, a ladder has violently collapsed to the ground, eyes turn upwards, a fireman is clinging to the corpse that is rapidly detaching from the ceiling, the other one tries in vain to grab both his colleague and the corpse, Cardone and Marianni decide to move back sticking to the wall, correctly predicting the worst, the corpse thunderously collapses to the ground with the terrified fireman astride it and dismembers into thousands of pieces that shoot off in all directions.

Bastoni Manotta Ossouka Cardone and Marianni try to protect themselves somehow from the shrapnel - bullets, with the sudden revelation that the corpse is not a corpse after all.

At the door, next to the stunned officer Locicero, the young American hyperrealist sculptor Tony Matelli suddenly appears with two full supermarket bags.

-But... oh god... what... what the fuck...?